Fade Out
by Finn21
Summary: Peyton thinks about her past and her future with Lucas.


**Title:** Fade Out

**Author:** Ashley

**Rating:** PG13

**Summary:** Peyton thinks about her past and her future with Lucas.

**Author's Note:** This is a bunch of flashes from the beginning of Season Two, and a little into the future from the episode _I Will Dare_. This is a short onepart ficlet written for the OTH Fic Exchange over at the Writers Corner. Lyrics are by Trapt.

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_Do I expect to change, the past I hold inside,_

_with all the words I say, repeating over in my mind_

Peyton doesn't think about him often. She likes to keep herself busy: drawing in her sketchbook, writing emails to her dad when he's away, or hanging out with Haley. It's easier if she just focuses on the things that she enjoys, that give her satisfaction. It's less complicated that way. Things seem to make more sense.

It's on the days when she's not paying attention, when life seems the most calm, when everything is peaceful and quiet in her mind, that he'll just pop up out of thin air.

It happened a couple of weeks ago when she was in her room, rearranging her comic strip; this one was of a house burning in the distance as a family watches. All of their possessions dissolving slowly amongst the flames, until they turned into a dim black vortex. It was one of her darker pieces, but she was proud of the outcome. She'd been playing with different kinds of shadowing techniques for the last week, and finally after two hours she'd gotten the color of the fire bouncing off the patrons faces a respectable shade.

Yes, she was very pleased with this strip.

So pleased, in fact that as she was simply making the final corrections to the orange in the fire, the red in the young girls' hair, when suddenly his face faded into her mind.

She paused then, blinking her eyes wildly, and sat straight up. It came out of nowhere. A flash bulb of light in her eyes, and then it was gone, and so was he.

It wasn't any particular incident with him that came into her mind. Just a still shot of him, standing in the doorway to her room, that genuine happy smile spread over his mouth and throughout his entire face, until it reached up into his eyes. He was leaning against her dorm jam, one hand shoved in his jeans pocket and the other lag at his side. He was casual, and relaxed. But happy.

Happy.

She couldn't and can't wrap her mind around that word. Especially not in association with Lucas Scott. In the little time they'd spent together, only a tiny part of it had ever caused her joy. Either she was screwing him over, or he was doing the same to her. And they were always at odds with one another. Never together, but never completely apart. It was like a private Hell that they'd built for themselves, and couldn't quite figure a way to get out of. It feels like a huge mistake, she thinks, or a bad accident. The kind you just can't quite look away from.

When he left, when he wasn't around it was easier to condemn him, and she'd tried doing it many times. But in the end, when she shut her eyes at night and focused on all that had happened, she knew she was as much to blame for the catastrophe with Brooke and their intangible relationship as he was.

Mostly she found it hard reconciling the fact that somewhere between all the drama and heartache they'd caused each other, somehow, some way, they'd come back to the beginning. They weren't really friends, yet they weren't strangers either.

Peyton wonders if she'll always feel this way about him, or if time will erase him from her mind. She knows, eventually, she'll have to stop thinking about him at night before she goes to bed. She'll have to move on, find someone new.

Because he has.

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_Time that called for space_

_Unclear where you drew the line_

_I don't need to solve this case_

_And I don't need to look behind_

She sees them at school together. Anna and Lucas. She doesn't know what to think. Or how to feel. It brings back memories of the past. Memories of her and Lucas getting to know each other. Her running into him at the Rivercourt, at Keith's autoshop. She remembers their first kiss at Dan's Annual Basketball party, how soft his lips felt against hers. How he kissed her in the motel room when they found out her Dad was going to be alright. His body pressed into hers, his hands gentle and warm on her face, and body.

His touch was always so tender, his fingers calloused, yet smooth. She felt more like she was breathing when he kissed her, than when she was by herself. It was terrifying and it exhilarating. It ended so soon.

Part of her knows it had to end......for the obvious reasons.

As much as she wants to deny it, and she doesn't, Peyton knows that Lucas's heart wasn't with her. Not if he was able to so quickly dismiss her for someone like Nikki. At least that's what she tells herself. It made it easier to be away from him then, and seeing him with Anna, it makes it that much easier to be away from him now.

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_Some things you can't erase, no matter how hard you try,_

_an exit to escape is all there is left to find._

She listens to her Discman turned up on full blast. She tries to draw, but her mind feels blank. She knows this is a new development, but it still scares her. She's always been able to draw, even when life got tough, when things sucked and she was sad, really really sad. Even when.....her mom died, it was there. The empty sketchbook or empty canvas was always a welcoming place to go, to escape to.

But now all she sees on the blank page is an endless void. She doesn't know if it's what's going with her, or if it's just her. Sometimes she wishes she had somebody to talk about it with, somebody who understood her passion for something. Lucas, for reasons unknown to her, always got it. Even before he really knew her, he could see it, the love, the desire to draw, create art that was a part of her, but so much bigger.

They never really talked about her art or his basketball, but she knew and so did he, and it made it better. She thinks if she wanted, she could probably try to talk to him about it again. But what would she say? Not strangers, but not friendsthere isn't really instructions on how to be. There aren't any rules about this kind of situation, not ones she's ever heard of.

She stares down at the white sketch sheet in front of her. She sees nothing. She thinks about nothing....and too much all at once. She wants to scream in frustration. She doesn't feel the tears fall from her eyes until one hits the top of her hand and trickles down into the inside of her palm.

She misses what she can't have.

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_So I close my eyes_

_Let the whole thing pass me by_

_There is no time to waste asking why_

It's late afternoon, and Peyton sits in the corner of Karen's Café, her sketchbook on her left and her homework in her right. She does her math equations one after another, and ponders if her loss of creativity has spawned her ability to comprehend Trigonometry. Karen comes by and says Hello and they chat about the club and school and always avoid the topic of her son.

Haley asks her if she wants coffee refills and keeps her entertained with stories of newly wedded life. Peyton smiles and listens and nods her head at all the appropriate times. She thinks about how happy Haley and Nathan look together, and wonders why she can't find the same thing. Do people really always leave? Or do they just always leave her?

She finishes her last Trig problem and snaps her book shut. She looks over at the bright white page to her left, and shuts her eyes in frustration. It feels like its staring back at her, taunting her, and she thinks about throwing it across the room, or ripping it apart. She blows out a long sigh and feels someone standing behind her.

"Usually people look happy when they finish math homework," Lucas says and steps to the side of the table so that he can face her.

Peyton's face stays stiff, and she looks up with big brown eyes. "Usually people say 'hi' before they stare over your shoulder."

"I wasn't staring…. Just glancing really", he replies, and she roles her eyes. Lucas lets a laugh escape his throat and shrugs his shoulders. He seems a little uneasy, or maybe she feels uneasy and she thinks she sees it in him.

"Same difference," she shakes her head jokingly and her eyes fall down to the table. It's awkward talking to him like this and she's not sure how to act. Does she play it normal? What is normal anyway?

She glances up again and sees Lucas standing there looking down at her. So she gestures for him to take the chair beside her. The corners of his mouth curve into a small smile and he slides into the chair with ease. He leans his arm on the back of the chair and surveys the table with all of her belongings spread out upon it.

"…So what are you up to? Anything new?"

Peyton thinks about his question, realizes there are tons of things she could tell him, little insignificant daily occurrences, that are stupid and silly but fun to share. She could tell him about the big life altering events that have surpassed in the last few weeks, the ones that are making her wonder if she's a good person anymore, if she's worthwhile. But she just can't bring herself to share that part of herself with him. Not since she knows how badly it ended last time.

"Not really. You?"

"No, just the regular stuff," he replies with another shrug.

"Yeah me too," Peyton nods and they fall into an awkward silence. The other patrons in the café chat lively with one another or sit and peacefully sip from their cups. Peyton watches them with fascination, tries to imagine a still shot in her head of what the man at the corner table would look like drawn in the dark burgundy sunset. But it looks awful and she grimaces, notices Lucas leaning over the table to glance at her sketchpad.

"What are you working on," he asks with fervent interest. Peyton gives a disdainful look to her book and then meets his eyes.

"Umm…nothing, actually. I'm kind of having writers block, or artists block, or whatever you wanna call it. I keep trying to think of what to draw, but all I'm getting is a blank."

Lucas thinks over her words. "Well writer's read when they get blocked, right? Maybe you just need to go to a museum or something."

"Yeah...I don't know if that will really help."

"It couldn't hurt," he smiles at her brightly.

"Probably not," she agrees and can't but help but smile too. Their eyes meet briefly and then veer away. She thinks someone should speak, but she doesn't know where to go from here. She catches Lucas check his watch and shift in his seat. He stares at her for a few seconds until he finds her eye line again.

"I should probably get going but….don't worry about your art Peyton. It'll come when you're ready. Just give it some time," he moves up out of his seat, his eyes never leaving her. Surveying her intently. Peyton doesn't know how to read his gaze so she ignores it, fixes her attention forward.

She lets a small smile slip from her lips. The tawny orange sun comes in through the windows and cascades off her golden locks and onto Lucas's face. He seems more passive than she can remember, but it suits him.

"I'll see ya around, ok," he says.

His words are simple of course, and she nods as he leaves, but the thing that gets her the most is that they somehow seem to hold a kind of promise within. She might be searching for something that isn't there, and never will be. Or she might just be wishing for things that can't happen, she's gotten pretty good at that over the years.

When she gets home that night to an empty house and a note from her Dad that tells her he'll be gone for three days on a new job, she tries to pretend it doesn't bother her.

Instead she goes to her room and turns on her stereo. She listens to angry love songs and writes her emails to her father. She tells him about school, trips to the beach and the mall, leaves out anything about Lucas.

She likes to keep those thoughts to herself.


End file.
